


Not Only 'Cause We're Lonely

by Cheylock



Series: A Very Stisaac Pack Christmas [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheylock/pseuds/Cheylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Isaac are both pathetic, and they have best friends who are rather sick of their pathetic-ness and decide that if they're going to be <em>sad</em> sad, they can at least be <em>sad</em> sad together.</p><p>Isaac and Stiles are inclined to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Only 'Cause We're Lonely

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elisara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisara/gifts).



> For Laura. She is seriously one of the most lovely people I have the honor and the privilege to know, and she's an incredible author who I am consistently amazed and enthralled by. I love her fic and I love her and I hope this gives her something to smile about.

Stiles is a little obsessed with firsts.

He remembers the first movie he ever saw ( _Dumbo_ , and everything about that movie still makes him cry, even if they are now inside tears of manly pain), the first book he ever read all the way through all by himself ( _Good Work, Amelia Bedelia_ , he used to think that crazy woman was hilarious), the first girl he ever had a crush on (Lydia Martin, god have mercy on his soul) _and_ the first boy that the same happened with (Isaac Lahey, god is obviously ignoring him because that one only happened about two months ago and it’s still going on).

Naturally (and perfectly normally, he swears) this progresses to an obsession with first kisses.

He sighs almost each and every time someone is kissed for the first time in a movie. It’s just something that happens. It looks so special and so nice just about every freaking time, and it drives him a little nuts, because he wants that, and he has no idea where the heck he’s gonna get it.

And of course, because his best friend is a sympathetic asshole whose girlfriend had broken up with him only months ago (making his mouth relatively available), he offered one day after Stiles actually teared up a little at _Never Been Kissed_ , even though he’d been pretending not to watch it from Scott’s dining room.

Stiles looked freaking scandalized. “You are kidding me right now, Scott. _Hell_ no. I asked in sixth grade, you said ‘no’, fuck right _off_ with your pity kiss!”

Scott groaned and put his head in his hands. “ _Come on_ , man, I can’t _take_ this anymore! I only said no ‘cause I thought we’d get in trouble for some stupid fucking reason—you’re like starved for it, I’m here, I’m cute, I’m willing—go for it!”

And Scott had to be right because Stiles seriously considered it for about two seconds, even as he painted his features in (totally righteous) anger. “No, you idiot! I don’t want a kiss from you—it’s not—ugh, it’s not just about the actual kissing, okay, it’s about—it’s about kissing someone you like for the first time—and before you say a damn word I’m not saying soul mates I just mean like—a-a person who thinks I’m _hot_ , okay—and then there’s this like spark moment and this connection you feel and I just…I want that.” He pointed at the screen in indignation. “You think Drew Barrymore’d be happy if her first kiss was with some random dude on the football team?”

Scott’s eyebrows rose. “Uh. No. They’re all underage. And I think her name’s Josie or Jodie or something in this.”

Stiles threw his hands into the air. “Oh my god, Scott, it was supposed to be an example.” He shook his head at Scott and crossed his arms over his chest in a huff, knowing he was acting like a stupid little kid and not being able to stop it. He grumbled the main cause of his frustration low, aware that Scott could probably hear him and not really caring. He could use some reassurance that it wasn’t true. “I’m just saying, I wish someone in this werewolf-infested town _liked_ me, is all.”

Scott’s eyebrows scrunched up. “Hey, I like you!” He sounded a little offended.

Stiles threw his pencil at Scott’s big stupid puppy eyes and yelled “ _You know what I mean, dumbass!_ ”

 

Scott did, actually.

He subtly pulled his phone out and did the one thing he’d thought he’d never, ever do.

Text Erica Reyes to ask for a date.

Not for _him_ , holy _crap_ , he should probably put that he was asking for Stiles.

 

Across town, said Erica Reyes was having the _exact same conversation_ with _her_ best friend, Isaac Lahey, at her _own_ kitchen table.

“Erica, it’s not about the kissing part, yeesh, I don’t—I mean, yeah, you’re pretty and stuff but I don’t like you _like that_ and I want the person I kiss for the first time to…to like me like that and me to like them like that.”

“Well, I don’t like you ‘like that’—” Erica raised her fingers in exaggerated hooked quotation marks and rolled her eyes before smirking a little at Isaac “—either, but this is ridiculous. You just whined out loud and you don’t even know what’s going on! I just turned this on, Isaac, and it’s not even that good, you don’t even have context—it’s getting sad. _Sad_ -sad. Stilinski-sad.”

Isaac’s head came up sharply and his eyes narrowed a little. “What, exactly, do you mean by _that_?”

Erica’s eyebrows raised. “Have you ever had English with him? Boy _sighs_ at every kiss in the history of ever in every book ever read.”

Isaac raised his eyebrows.

“So that’s exaggeration, _whatever_ , the point is he’s pathetic and you’re pathetic and you should just go be pathetic together, okay?” And hey, now that she thought about it, that was actually a good idea. She pulled out her phone just as a text came in from _Scott McCall_. No. This would just be too perfect.

She opened it and laughed aloud as Isaac stared at her incredulously across the table. “What? What’s up?”

“Sweetheart, I think you got yourself a date.”

 

Isaac was pretty sure he’d never been this uncomfortable in his entire life, which was really, really saying something. He wasn’t really looking at _anything_ when he said “You don’t have to stay.”

He looked up sharply almost as soon as the words left his mouth because Stiles was choking on his water, face bright red, and Isaac watched him sputter and swallow and then wipe his face off with the fancy cloth napkin. “ _Dude_ , I only agreed to this because I thought you were game, holy _crap_ if you don’t actually wanna be here there’s no point in subjecting ourselves to this humiliation. This is the most swank-tastic restaurant in the whole damn town and to be honest with you, I’m not really interested in the escargot or whatever the hell they serve in here, I’d rather just get Arby’s anyway, so if this isn’t something you wanna do, _I am in no way making you do it_.” Stiles waved his arms around during his whole rant and hissed the last part at him, like he was trying to be quiet in a library, and Isaac wanted to slam his head on the table but the china was too fine for that.

“Okay this place is fucking ridiculous—if it makes you as uncomfortable as it’s making me I think ‘let’s get the fuck out of here’ is an appropriate reaction.” Truth was, this was the first stop in a long date night planned by Erica and Scott, and Isaac wasn’t looking forward to any of it. It was, by definition, a set up, but the entire thing was too set up—there was no room for spontaneity of any kind. For two people who’d actually had significant others, Isaac thought Erica and Scott sucked a little at planning dates.

Stiles was staring at him, eyes huge, mouth hanging open. Isaac started to feel even more uncomfortable somehow before Stiles seemed to kind of…turn back on, blink a few times, shake his head, and then stand. “Dude. Yeah. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here’s a good plan. Do you—do you actually want to see Pacific Rim tonight?”

Isaac stood and dropped the fancy cloth napkin back onto the center of the table, grateful they both ordered water so there was no ridiculous check to pay. “Um. If you want to that’s fine. It’ll probably be good, I’m just kind of…”

“…Vaguely uninterested and underwhelmed?” Stiles smiled and jerked his head toward the exit, waving Isaac toward the doors and weaving through the tables with a sort of gangly ease that was admirable and kind of…cute? Cute. Decent word. “It’s like I’m supposed to get excited about something that’s pretty much _Evangelion_ drunk, which is just straight-up too. Freaking. Much. It’s ridiculous.”

Isaac was keeping up as best he could, awkwardly smiling at every couple they passed, hoping they weren’t disturbing these glamorous people’s evenings too much. He seriously hated Erica for telling him the dress code for the evening was ‘casual’. This place had a freaking _chandelier_ , he did not belong there in nice dark-wash jeans and a steel-blue button down. Or at all. But hey, at least Stiles’d showed up in something only slightly more formal—a dark gray cotton jacket cut in the style of a suit jacket, a high-necked black t-shirt, black jeans and probably the coolest purple and black high-top Adidas that Isaac’d ever seen. Still, neither of them looked like they belonged here, so that was something.

Stiles smiled easily at the hostess in front of the doors, said ‘thanks for the drink’, and slipped out with Isaac on his heels. Once they got out onto the sidewalk of downtown Isaac glanced around nervously. It was the epitome of fall, and the wind cut through Isaac’s button-down, almost enough that he’d wished he brought a jacket. “So…Arby’s?”

Stiles turned to him and smiled, full and wide, looking _dazzled_ , and Isaac could see why. There was something about the cool of the city, the leaves drifting onto the downtown sidewalk, the old-fashioned gas lamps in front of this ridiculously rich restaurant, that seemed kind of…magic. “Sure. C’mon, gotta get my jeep from the freaking _parking garage_. Seriously, it’s like Scott doesn’t know me at all.” Stiles started off toward the small parking garage adjacent to the restaurant.

Isaac followed a little hesitantly. He was just now thinking that maybe Stiles meant he’d rather get Arby’s _by himself_ and not do this ‘date’ thing at all. “Uh…yeah. About that. Sorry my best friend teamed up with your best friend to get us to ah…to do this. If you—I mean, it’s fine if you just wanna drop me off at Erica’s so I can berate her for restaurant choice. I have a lot to say to her.” Isaac pulled up short, almost running into Stiles.

Isaac could hear Stiles’s heart beating _fast_ , faster than usual fast, and it was freaking him out a little. He watched Stiles’s shoulders square under his jacket and then noted the firm set of his mouth as he turned around, his eyes hard and _amber_ in the lamplight, relatively sure that Stiles was about to awkwardly, but firmly, tell him to fuck off. Asking for a ride was probably overstepping. Shit. “Dude. Like I said, I am not making you do this. You do not have to do this pity-date thing or whatever the fuck this is. I can totally take you to Erica’s and I won’t hold it against you, don’t worry about it, okay? ‘S not a big deal.” Stiles seemed to deflate then, and as he turned he half-whispered “used to it” and Isaac’s heart _hurt._

He did a very Stiles-like flail and grabbed Stiles by the shoulder, turning him easily but jerking his hand back once Stiles was facing him and shoving his hands in both his pockets, already regretting touching Stiles without his permission. They were technically on a date, but Isaac didn’t know if they were _there_ yet, this was actually the first time they’d ever hung out alone and on purpose—actual‘hanging out’ alone and not ‘I’m pretending to beat you up so I don’t get in trouble’ alone, and Stiles’s eyes were hard on him and he was sort of starting to freak out so his filter clicked off and he just…just _spoke_. “I’m not—I’m not saying that— _ugh_ this is the most awkward experience of my entire life, okay—I’m not saying that I don’t want to…um. Do this.” He waved back and forth between himself and Stiles.

His eyes went steadily more shifty the longer he talked, only lighting on Stiles’s face for about a second at a time before looking awkwardly around at literally anything else. “Um. This date thing? With you? I mean, I know we were only in there—” he jerked a thumb back towards the front entrance of the restaurant “—for like less than ten minutes but the uh…the venue was the problem, not the company. I—I understand if you don’t want to, but um…fuck. I kind of want to. No. Okay. Okay. I want to. Do this date thing. With you. Not like an ‘Erica and Scott’ date, though, like an ‘Isaac and Stiles’ date—oh. Okay. So I guess I’m just gonna say all of that shit out loud.” Isaac flushed to the roots of his hair and felt himself hunching down, trying to get smaller _fuck_ he hated being tall and obvious sometimes. “Does—I mean—shit, am I even making sense?”

 

Stiles knew his mouth was hanging open but he really couldn’t help it. To have something like that come pouring out of Isaac Lahey’s mouth directed at him—it was weird but it was kind of awesome. He’d never seen Isaac like this—normal, it seemed like, unguarded, not hiding himself behind a wall of swagger. He tried to keep his voice casual but he couldn’t help grinning a little. “Okay, and I’m pretty sure I’ve made it clear I want to do this date thing with you, so food and then what?”

“Park.” It came out of Isaac quickly and, from the way his cheeks heated back up and he looked shyly away, Stiles guessed ‘involuntarily’ as well. But shit, that sounded freaking awesome.

“Dude, _yeah_. The one on Halls-Mills Road? With the totally insane jungle gym?” He reached out to take Isaac’s elbow and drag him to the car and pretended not to notice the little flinch and then blinking head-shake that happened. _Shit_. Was the touching even okay?

Isaac pulled his elbow out of Stiles’s grip and shit, it totally wasn’t, fuck. “So where’d you park? I told Erica I should’ve just ridden over with you, sheesh, felt like I was being delivered or something.” But…but Isaac’s eyes were all bright relief and he blushed and pulled a hand out of his pocket and extended it to Stiles and looked down and colored a bit more darkly before looking up at Stiles and the blue of his eyes in the gas light stuck in Stiles’s chest. He’d always kind of been attracted to Isaac—holy _shit_ how could he not be—but usually he was a little turned off by the fact that Isaac was sort of a huge douchebag that treated everybody like shit.

But he’d stopped treating Scott like shit, at least, hadn’t really had a change to treat Stiles like anything, and Stiles realized he was probably being incredibly unfair about the whole ‘Isaac being gung-ho about killing Lydia’ thing because Scott’d tried to kill Stiles on his second moon, it was kind of likely that Isaac would be acting a little violent and insane. Stiles was sure he wouldn’t be much better with a goddamn wolf penned up inside his chest fighting to get out all the damn time.

He took Isaac’s hand with only the slightest hesitation and dragged him off toward the parking garage. “Second floor, dude. C’mon, let’s go text Erica and Scott and tell them we’re bailing on their elaborately-but-terribly-laid plans for getting us laid.” He went _**totally**_ red and was kind of amazed and horrified that that’d even come out of his mouth, but Isaac was laughing, a little helplessly, and Stiles’s heart felt like it was taking off like the Apollo 13. System control, we are go. Well, he _hoped_ it was the Apollo 13. It’d gotten to the moon and back mostly whole, at least.

 

Stiles was totally and completely sure that this was a good idea and this thing was going to end well when Isaac ordered the exact same thing as he did _simultaneously_. They both looked at each other, grinning their pleasure, and the cashier actually asked the ‘so how long have you two been together’ question and Stiles’s mouth dropped open, but Isaac only said “like a half an hour” with a little smirk and Stiles felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Holy _shit_ Isaac was just swagged out all to _hell_ right now, and Stiles wondered if it was an ‘in public’ thing or what, but at least he wasn’t being totally alienated from it, Isaac’d just said— _holy fucking shit_ Isaac’d just said they were _together_. Did he mean ‘together’ together? Or like—that they’d only been hanging out for half an hour? _God_ he just wanted to crawl into Isaac’s head and try to _understand_ him, what did he _mean_? And of course while Stiles was staring at him, still a little gape-mouthed, Isaac paid for the food.

Isaac took the lead when it came time to find seating and found them a booth against the wall in the corner. He motioned Stiles into the side of the booth where the back was pressed against the wall. Stiles sat down and he’d assumed that Isaac was going to sit across from him but he sat on the same side and Stiles was getting a little weirded out until he remembered the whole ‘supernatural’ level to all this bullshit. It irritated him some and he was going to let the whole thing with the cashier go but—“So we _are_ together then?”

Isaac choked on his Sprite and stared at Stiles, eyes huge. This was in no way the Isaac that’d just been at the counter. He looked so uncomfortable in his own skin Stiles felt a little sorry for him. “Um. Shit. That was. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…to you know, assume anything, I-I get that this could be a one-time thing and it’s not a big deal, I just—fuck. I’m sorry.”

So he _definitely_ hadn’t just been talking about hanging out. Stiles was strangely pleased. Well, okay, there was nothing strange about it, Isaac was having a good enough time that they might actually become like a couple tonight apparently? So Stiles was definitely pleased. He shook his head and nudged Isaac’s shoulder with his own, leaning there for probably a second longer than was strictly necessary but fuck it, he wanted to. “Hey. Relax. ‘M not mad or anything, it was kind of…cool of you.” Stiles looked down at the black-flecked enamel of the table and felt his ears go red. It had actually been a little sexy and kind of fucking awesome to hear that somebody wanted to be associated with him like that, besides the fact that it was Isaac and that escalated it to a whole ‘nother level, but there was no way in hell he was actually saying that out loud.

Isaac blushed too and looked down at his food. It didn’t seem like there was much else to say, so they just ate.

At least until Stiles thought to ask if Isaac read comic books, a little tentatively, pretty sure he was about to be called a loser. You didn’t look like _Isaac_ did and spend any amount of time pretending to be a hero. Isaac already looked like one, there was no need for him to.

 

Isaac was freaking indignant as they pulled up to the park. “No, no, _listen_ —I’m not saying I don’t like Batman, _god_ , Stiles, I’m _saying_ I think he’s kind of a dick. Parents die because mugger? Criminals overrunning your city? Gotham police force not doing well enough for you? Instead of donating some of your ridiculous fortune toward re-education programs and social reform and police reform to actually clean up your fucking city you put on a freaking mask and start kicking ass. Like, I get it, but I don’t get it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and motioned Isaac out of the car and Isaac rolled _his_ eyes back but smiled and stepped out. Stiles was calling around the car, seemingly forgetting about the wolf hearing, but that was kind of…nice. Awesome, actually. It was cool for someone to think of Isaac as human for once. “ _Dude_ , he does donate money and shit!”

Isaac sighed. “I know that but I’m pretty damn sure he’s not actively working on social reform and he needs to be. Like he needs to take a highly personal vested interest in it or there will never be peace in Gotham! _That_ would’ve been the reasonable response to his parent’s death, not this fucking crazy ‘beat the shit out of all the criminals personally’ thing he has going. Shit.”

Their paths met at the front of Stiles’s jeep and Isaac grinned at Stiles’s expression—he was blinking and his mouth was slightly open. “Um. Fuck. Yeah, okay, yeah, I’ll give you that one. But I never said Batman was sane, okay!”

Isaac shook his head and rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_ , you _did_ , Stiles. I asked you to provide one example of a hero you like that doesn’t have some kind of psychosis. You said Batman. That’s how this whole conversation started.”

Stiles bumped Isaac’s shoulder again and Isaac felt warmth bloom in his chest. He actually _really_ liked Stiles touching him. He hadn’t been quite brave enough to try the hand-holding thing again, but he desperately wanted to. “Shit. You’re a lot better at this than Scott. He sucks at remembering what we were arguing about. It’s like you actually listen to me or some crazy shit.” Stiles smiled at him a little lopsided and Isaac lost air for a second, missed a step, and tripped for the first time since he was turned like an _asshole_.

His limbs flailed out for balance and, thanks to Stiles grabbing his arm and tugging, he managed to keep his feet. Barely. He coughed awkwardly and slid his arm almost totally out of Stiles’s grip, until just his hand was in Stiles’s. “Uh. So. Swingset?”

 

They played, actually legitimately _played,_ at the park for the better part of four hours, laughing and screaming like children and talking about everything from comic books to favorite school subjects to favorite tv shows; Stiles liked some things that Isaac’d never heard of and vice versa, but they shared so many similar opinions and interests it was kind of amazing that they hadn’t at least been friends before this. Each piece of playground equipment got quite a workout and some things Isaac was better at and had more fun on because of the werewolf thing, but he would forever hate merry-go-rounds because of an incident in third grade in which he’d puked until he passed out. He’d actually told Stiles the story and Stiles’d laughed and it hadn’t felt mean—Isaac was just happy to hear it. It seemed like Stiles had a lasting love affair with them regardless of the vomiting story—he kept asking Isaac to push him, and since that only required standing still Isaac did it and laughed along with Stiles because Stiles seemed so happy.

Isaac almost kissed Stiles six different times all told—when he actually flipped a loop in the swing and fell off from sheer amazement and panic and Stiles leaped out of his own swing and came jogging over to help him up, freaking the fuck out about how awesome it was; when Stiles got stuck in the enclosed slide and Isaac had to tug him out, both of them laughing uncontrollably the entire time—Isaac’d _told_ Stiles not to play on the little kid’s playground set; when Stiles hung like a bat from the monkey bars right in front of Isaac’s face, his t-shirt coming up to reveal a swath of pale white stomach that made Isaac’s breathing go a little spastic; when Stiles stood on top of the jungle gym and screamed ‘arm the battlements’ and they started pretending that it was a pirate ship about to overtake some British sailors, any British sailors, Isaac claiming Stiles was the Captain and he was the navigator and Stiles shaking his head and clasping his shoulder and saying “No way, dude, you’re my first mate” ; when they both climbed up the tall, slick metal slide for no reason other than ‘we can’ and Stiles slipped and took Isaac down, all the way to the bottom, and Isaac was full-body on top of Stiles for all of two minutes, laughing too hard to make himself move; when Stiles beat him at the large tick-tack-toe game hanging on the side of the jungle gym and crowed and fist pumped like it was something huge. Isaac’d totally let him win anyway.

Even though Isaac’s breath was coming out in white foggy spurts and he was shaking from the chill of the air and the playground equipment, he’d totally stay out for four more hours if Stiles’s lips weren’t turning blue, he was having that much fun. He reluctantly insisted that they needed to go home already, it was almost eleven o’clock, and Stiles reluctantly agreed with him, looking about as disappointed as Isaac felt. There was _magic_ out here in this chill (or maybe just magic out here with Stiles), despite the fact that Isaac felt like he was now wearing a thin second layer of clothing designed to press cold into his skin every time he moved.

So here they were in the jeep, closed off from the night and the stars by the canvas roof but not from each other, both shivering the last of the chills out. They were less than a mile away from Erica’s, where Isaac was spending the night, and they kept looking at each other. A bright fuzzing ball of nervousness was working its way through Isaac’s chest, fizzling over his whole being—was this gonna be it? Would Stiles kiss him, or would he kiss _Stiles_? Were they doing this again? Oh he really wanted to do this again—

Stiles’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Hey. So. Uh. We’re—I mean—” Stiles winced and screwed his eyes almost shut, but Isaac could see sparkling slits that meant he was still paying attention to the road. Stiles’s voice came out fast then, almost a little too fast, and it took Isaac a second to figure out what he’d actually said. “I mean—I’m totally solid with calling us—you know, ‘us’ like an ‘us’ like a ‘we’ve been together for like six hours’ type thing—basically what I’m saying here is…will you go out with me?”

Isaac blinked a few times and didn’t really know how to respond. Well, okay, that wasn’t really right, he knew how to respond—with ‘hell yes’ and a maybe a Stiles-style fistpump—but he couldn’t get actual words to come out of his mouth.

Stiles seemed to take his silence for ‘no’ and his whole face kind of relaxed and his eyes opened normally but his eyebrows were stiff and his mouth was a flat line. Isaac thought he was maybe chewing on his lips before he spoke, voice quiet and a little cold. “You know what? No. That’s fine. I mean like—‘one time thing’, right? No problem dude. Uh. That was fun. Just one ridiculously hot guy who is way out of a truly desperate dude’s league doing said desperate dude a favor and…yeah. That’s all it has to be. That’s all that has to be. Cool. Whatever. _Fuck_ I’m gonna kill Scott.” He whispered the last bit and was shaking his head the whole time.

Isaac felt like his chest was a Coke can that’d just been crushed. He leaned lazily against the door, half-facing Stiles and smirking at him. “You really think you’re out of my league, Stiles? That’s cute. I’m not desperate—maybe lonely, yeah, but I wouldn’t be out with you if I didn’t at least somewhat like you. I guess you don’t have that same hang-up, yeah? I was going to say ‘yes’ but if you want this whole thing to just be a favor to me, yeah, sure, that works, too. Thanks for the _date_ , and for the ride home, but next time you maybe want to consider going out with someone who you don’t consider inferior or some shit.” Isaac thought the only thing that was maybe giving him away was the humiliated flush of his cheeks but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. To have your first ever actual date turn into something like this…that was bullshit. God Erica was never gonna make this up to him.

Stiles actually fucking pulled over and Isaac was pretty sure he was about to get kicked out of the car, which really wouldn’t be that big a deal considering how close they were and the whole ‘wolf speed’ thing but shit it would hurt he knew it would but Stiles was putting the car in park and grabbing either side of his face and Isaac didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he was mad and he wanted it to stop and Stiles _better not fucking kiss him_ that shit wouldn’t be fair—“Isaac. I don’t—I thought you were—I don’t think I’m out of your league. I—I don’t—fuck, dude, were you not listening when I asked you out? I…I really like you, okay? And I want. This. Us. To be a thing. I’m sorry—I just—you didn’t say anything and I just assumed shit and I shouldn’t’ve. I’m sorry. I—I wasn’t calling _you_ desperate, I…I was saying that I thought that you thought I was desperate…I’m..I’m a dick. Sorry.”

Isaac nodded. “You should be. I agree, you are a dick. _Are_ you desperate? Is that the only reason you’re here right now?” And yeah, that was a fucking shitty question but Stiles’d been so much of a dick Isaac was allowed to be one back for a second.

Stiles swallowed hard and kept a firm hold of Isaac’s face, like he was afraid Isaac was gonna run away. “Uh. Lonely is a better word, like you said. But kinda. But-but it’s **_not_** why I stayed. Isaac, c’mon, _listen_ to me, here, I _like_ you, okay? Not because I want to like somebody anybody anybody at all. Because I like _you_.”

Isaac nodded. “Okay. Same here. So I say ‘yes’ even though you were a huge dick because six hours of freaking amazing is still better than about thirty seconds of fuckery and you’re my boyfriend now and I’m _your_ boyfriend now and you’re gonna stop assuming shit. Sound good?”

Stiles shook his head and Isaac’s chest crunched in unpleasantly again but what came out of Stiles’s mouth made it press back out unexpectedly and fully. “Nope. Sounds _great_. Now, you said not to assume things anymore so I’m not gonna assume it’s okay to kiss you so—can I kiss you?”

Isaac shook his head and had to _force_ down a smile. He leaned his head into Stiles’s hand before lifting his arms to wrap around Stiles’s waist and scoot forward, picking himself up on his legs a little to reach in the _fucking_ bucket seats, and pressed his barely-warm lips to Stiles’s chilled ones, smiling into the quick flash of mouth-on-mouth before sitting down again and pulling away.

“Dude.” Stiles’s voice was bright and awe-struck and he was grinning _huge_ and he surged forward, kissing Isaac this time, holding it for longer, sliding his hands into Isaac’s hair. Isaac whimpered and tried to lean simultaneously into Stiles’s hands and Stiles’s mouth.

 

So Stiles maybe got to Scott’s at twelve-thirty instead of eleven-fifteen, and he maybe pulled in a little too fast, and he maybe woke half the neighborhood by his semi-insane laughter as he unlocked the door, but he’d just had pretty much the _best_ _night_ _ever_ —no thanks to the asshole he was dashing up the stairs to see. He mentally ticked off all the firsts with Isaac—first date, first fucking insane amount of sexual tension, first not-actually-dining-and-ditching, first time he’d spent over three hours at a park since he was _six_ and probably not even then, first time he’d been afraid of getting frostbite via swingset, first colossal fuck-up, first commiseration, first **_boyfriend_** , first **_kiss_** , first **_make-out session_** —holy hell his life was just full of fantastic firsts at the moment. He burst into Scott’s room to see Scott reading a copy of Game Informer and dove onto him, onto the bed, laughing like a fucking loon and hugging Scott. “ _God_ Scott you’re the biggest fucking idiot and I love you _so fucking much_ you are the _best_ best friend _ever_ dude like holyshit.”

“So uh…it went well?” Scott smiled like he had a secret and Stiles punched him.

“ _Shit yes_ it went well! Have you _looked_ at your clock? I, Stiles, went on a night-long date and _it was freaking amazing_.”

“And you thought you wouldn’t have fun.” Scott still had that fucking smirk plastered onto his dumb face and Stiles punched him again.

“ _Hey_ , _**I’m**_ the one who gets to look super smug and satisfied right now, not _you_ , asshole!”

Scott just shook his head. “Okay, okay, get off me and _spill_ , dude.”

 

Scott sent a text to Erica as Stiles babbled, saying thanks for helping him set this up. It’d been Erica’s idea to send them to the fanciest restaurant in town in normal people clothes (Scott hadn’t really gotten it but hey, apparently it’d worked) and it’d been _his_ to plan the whole thing out without consulting either of them, to make them uncomfortable enough to take action on their own. They’d both wanted to see _Pacific Rim_ so they got two tickets under Scott’s name and gone to the movie, high five-ing and cackling to themselves when Stiles and Isaac’d sent them identical text messages—“Going off-book, you guys suck.” Really, it’d been the perfect plan.

 

Across town, Erica was dealing with a similar situation, but it was more along the lines of semi-hysterical laughter and being swung around the room by a ridiculously strong and happy Isaac. He’d been like this for almost fifteen minutes and she was starting to get sick. Her hair was flying out behind her and she finally had to shove him and plant her feet firmly to get him to _stop_ , but he just let go and then plopped on the floor, still laughing. This was happiest she’d ever _seen_ Isaac and it was awesome. She knelt down across from him on the floor. “Holy shit, was it seriously that fun, man?”

Isaac nodded, still smiling huge, wiping actual tears from his eyes. “It was _awesome_ , Erica.”

He didn’t give any indication that he was going to say anything else so she waved her hands in a circular ‘go-on’ gesture, and when he shook his head she said “Seriously, Isaac, _spill_.”

Isaac shook his head again. “A true gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Her eyes widened and she pounced forward, hugging him. “Oh my _god_ , Isaac, _yes_! Go you! Now _details_ —details!” Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out and saw that it was Scott. She was pretty much over the whole ‘seduce him’ thing—after the moon she’d kind of remembered that her body was her own damn property and Derek didn’t have any business trying to whore her out and she’d told him so, but Scott was nice, and she wouldn’t mind being _friends_ with him. She sent back a “no problem we should do that again sometime” as Isaac _finally_ started to talk to her, actually _babbling_ a little, and she’d _seriously_ never seen him with his guard so far down.

She sent a “holy shit he has it bad man” and got back a “mine too—next weekend wanna see that sci-fi will smith movie?” and a smiley face. She sent back “sure” with a smiley, but she didn’t really think they’d _need_ to set their boys up again. At least not with the way Isaac was talking.


End file.
